Cellphone
by Ghost of a Heart that Once Was
Summary: Chiro's been bitten by the cellphone bug and he has his heart set on one of the more expensive models. Just an idea I had after I was inspired by all the morons at my school that believe that just because a phone has a million gadgets it makes you cool.


**JuSt anOtheR oNe of My rANdoM iDeas. Me No oWn SrMtHfG.**

"Come _on!_ _Please_, Antauri? Why can't I get one?"

"I'm sorry Chiro; I simply do not understand your need for a new communications device when you already have one." The silver monkey replied, sighing. This conversation was getting old and he was tired of Chiro's constant whining.

"But they're so cool! Check out this one," the boy pulled out an ad for a sleek, black phone. "This is the one I want."

Antauri took the paper from his hands and contemplated it while Chiro rambled on behind him.

"It's got a touch screen and you can go on the Internet and download songs and videos and send text messages and you can play games and take pictures and –"

"And," Antauri cut him off "It's over three hundred dollars, plus another fifty for the _minimum_ monthly plan. I'm sorry Chiro, but our funds do not allow that."

"But –"

"No buts. I still do not understand why you want something like this when the communicator we gave you still works just fine."

"Hmph." Chiro snatched the ad out of the spiritual advisor's hands and stormed off. He couldn't explain his need for the phone himself. He just _wanted_ it so badly! It seemed everybody else had a cool phone, even that creep with the stuffed penguin. ". . . Wait."

The boy spun on his heel and raced back to Antauri's room.

"Antauri!"

"Yes, Chiro?" the silver monkey sighed, bracing himself for another onslaught of how "awesome" a cell phone would be and how "EVERYBODY who was ANYBODY" had one.

"What if I get a job? To pay for the phone." Chiro held up the ad and pointed to the colorful picture.

Antauri blinked, thinking about his leader's offer. Then, he nodded and smiled.

"I think that is a good idea Chiro. But you will have to be on call at all times, and still make time for training and lessons."

"YES!" Chiro jumped up and pumped his fists in victory. "Yeah! Totally, Antauri. I'll be ready and on guard, I promise!"

Antauri blinked again as the excited boy raced from his chamber and down the hall, eager to start his job search.

Two weeks later, one would find Chiro at the supermarket, mopping floors, muttering to himself the entire time.

"Stupid manager. . . 'We'll put those powers to good use!' Yeah, right! That moron couldn't even find his way out of the store that one time he accidently walked into the produce section!"

"Oh Chiiiiiii-rooooo!" the manager, Gregory **(...Shut up...)** called, drawing out the vowels for as long as possible. "Somebody's little brat got sick in the cereal aisle! Go clean it."

"Grrr. . ." Chiro glared at Gregory's oblivious, pasty face. "I've got an idea, why don't _you_ clean it?" He thrust the mop at Gregory, nearly breaking his trendy glasses.

Greg caught it in time, smirked, and bopped Chiro on the head with the handle before plopping it back in the bucket, slashing water everywhere. For a guy who had the complexion of the _Pillsbury Doughboy_that went through an acid wash and had the fashion sense of a colorblind Sci-Fi movie geek, he was really snarky.

"Because that's what you're getting paid for."

"Taking orders from you because you don't feel like working?" Chiro retorted

"Partly that, _and_ you're getting cash to mop up messes people make and they're _not_ paid to clean."

Chiro sighed, then started pushing the mop and bucket towards the cereal aisle; the wheels emitting a high pitched squeaking that was only worsening his headache.

"I planned it out. At this rate, only six more months of working late till I have enough cash for the phone and the first month. I can do this. Only . . . six more . . . months . . ."

When he got to the cereal lined hall, the mother was crying in frustration along with her child; angry that her son, who couldn't even walk yet, had the _nerve_ to humiliate her in public by upchucking his breakfast of mashed bananas and strawberries.

Chiro stood, watching them, banged his head on the mop handle a number of times, and then started wiping up the rainbow of puke the infant left for all to see. All the while, a creepy, fake-cheerful grin plastered on his face, stretching out his features to odd proportions and making him look like . . . something not entirely human. The mother and child stopped crying instantly, they were so freaked out. The mother quickly scooped up the slimy child and hurried out of the store without buying anything.

And on it went like that. Chiro torturing himself at a suckish job five days a week for six hours a day, at minimum wage. He put up with Gregory's remarks, insulting him only on the inside. ("Dumb bastard! That ass thinks he's _sooo_ cool just because he's higher up than me in the food line of work! I'd like to see him take down Skeleton King. He'd probably piss his pants and pass out. Haha. Loser.")

With the images of Gregory being maimed/humiliated in several different ways in his mind, Chiro passed the time at the market. On top of suffering at work every day, his training schedule went down at the Robot, but his chore list went up. Without bad guys to entertain themselves, the Monkeys were bored out of their skulls, so they found other ways to occupy themselves.

Gibson was conducting experiments in hopes of disproving some scientific law, all from Einstein's Theory of Relativity to Newton's Three Laws of Motion. All he succeeded in though, was wasting time and making a mess.

Sprx flew his Fist Rocket, pleasing the masses, then becoming steadily bolder and trying new tricks. He crashed. Many, many times.

Otto was either in his workshop, inventing things to help improve life, but only ending up making things more difficult, or eating junk food while playing video games. The backscratcher he built into the Robot worked fine until a tiny malfunction and its programming got mixed up with the automatic flush on all the toilets.

Nova, having bought practically every plush toy on Suggazoom, had taken to making her own. The result was a room littered with stuffing, multicolored bit of fabric, googly eyes that seemed to follow you across the room, and nightmares resulting from said googly eyes.

Antauri was the only clean one. He even did his own dishes, just like a good little monkey.

Eventually, time passed and Chiro earned enough to go buy his cell phone. He took his money in his hand and walked up to the counter.

"YAHOO!" Chiro cried, jumping out of the store and onto the street. People looked at him like he was deranged and walked a bit faster. "Finally, finally, I've got a cell phone! Yes!"

Buying the phone was almost as bad as earning the money to buy it. The sales lady was so pushy, always pointing to a more expensive model.

"Do you want this one? It comes in four colors, cherry red, lime green, hot pink, and puce. Oh! Or this one? It doubles as a flotation device. Or how about…" and on it went, for a half an hour. Chiro eventually grabbed her hand and made it point to the one he wanted, then growled in her face. She gulped, then grabbed a box off the shelf and sent him to her manager to help him set up his plan.

The manager was the same way, always going for the more elaborate plan, the more expensive plan. After what seemed like an endless stream of words that Chiro couldn't understand came out of the sweaty man's mouth, he settled for a much cheaper plan.

Chiro ran home and right into his room without so much as a hello to any of the Monkey's. He hugged his newly activated phone to his chest, his face flushed in excitement.

"Finally! I'm gonna call all my friends and . . . and . . ." He faltered, his smile fell off his face, and his eyes filled with tears.

"That's right. . . I don't have any friends outside the Monkey Team . . . I need friends . . ."

ALL FOR NOTHING!

**HAHAHAHAHA- ah, I mean, *cough* *cough* Oh, poor, poor, Chiro. Poor, sad, pitiful, little Chiro.**

**Yeah. Just a random one-shot. I don't really see the need for a super fancy phone. It just doesn't make sense. It's all status. Now, a cool laptop . . . that's nice. I love my laptop. X)**


End file.
